Sunday, 31 January 2016

Late Arrival on Cloud Nine


In mythology, Pygmalion was a sculptor who fell in love with a statue he had carved. Yes, well, we can do better than that...can't we?

Sometimes, it seems dreams can only ever be just...well, dreams... then love comes along and sees to it that life takes a turn for the better regardless of our colour, creed, sex, sexuality. Love, of course, takes many forms and lovers don't have a monopoly. Even so, the joys of being in love with someone who reciprocates can never be overstated.

Whatever, Carpe Diem, seize the day!

 LATE ARRIVAL ON CLOUD NINE 

I was gazing at the sky,
creating day-dreams out of clouds
so far, far, above,
friendly faces mouthing my secrets
telling the world I’m in love
and passing birds flapping wings
as if to approve,
reassuring me I have nothing at all
to prove to anyone
that I am any less of a man or person
for loving another,
yet as I looked away, sipped my tea,
I despaired of loving someone
so far, far, above me in every way,
has no idea I’m gay

In the shiny steel table top
I could still see the sky, day-dreams
determined to stay,
but a fingertip away, so near yet so far,
as you were to me
only an hour ago when we chatted
over a coffee, laughing
and joking about, well, no matter what
since just the sound
of your voice, the light in your eyes,
the turn of your smile
left me reaching for the sky, heart
like the wings of a bird,
beating, oh, so madly for trying to say,
I love you and I’m gay

I half rose and made to leave
my day-dreams behind, pay the bill,
get real…
when a distant roll of thunder took me
by surprise, and I sat down
just as it began to rain, and I had no mac,
wearing a tee shirt
and jeans since the day had started fine,
no reason to suspect
a storm, so I rose again to take shelter
in the café
when I felt a tap on my right shoulder,
turned to find you there,
an, oh, so queer expression on your face
as you moved in for a kiss

I’d had no idea you had guessed
my day-dreaming of our being lovers
all the time,
waiting for me to share the, come clean
about my feelings
instead of sculpting them with clouds
sharing with the birds,
winging to, oh, so far, far-away places,
where the only faces
I ever saw were yours, its shy smile
just like the one
you gave me just before you kissed me
in the pouring rain
and I kissed you back, no need to say
I love you and I’m gay


Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

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